One Note After the Other
by nithila
Summary: Inferiority complexes. Everyone has them. AU.


**[EDIT: 29/05/2014: Reformatted.]**

**Well, my board exams are over. I still can't believe it.**

**And, this is important: THIS ACCOUNT IS NO LONGER A JOIN ACCOUNT. It now belongs to me, Nithila. For more information, and the link to my sister's (Nila's) account, please look at my profile.**

**I'm not entirely sure about this story. It's fragmented. And it's in second person, something I've never done before. But I stayed up late one night writing it, and I really _meant _what I wrote, if you know what I mean. But it's still...ridiculously flawed, and probably doesn't deserve posting. But I thought I would anyway.**

**It's written from Ryoma's POV.**

* * *

.

There are the good days. When you can play pieces on the piano and actually feel proud of yourself. When you spend all night composing and feel accomplished when you look at your work. When you actually _enjoy_ what you're doing.

Then there are the bad days, when you tear your music sheets apart and throw them in the trash. When you sit huddled up in a corner and hold your head in your hands, shaking, willing to disappear. All you can hear is your brother playing your piano downstairs, with every note more perfect than it could be. You see him laughing at you. Telling you that you'll never be good enough.

The good days are few, and far apart.

* * *

.

Fuji Syuusuke reminds you of your brother. They have the same teasing smile, the same incomparable skill.

But perhaps Fuji is even better.

* * *

.

Watching him play _bothers _you. His perfect form, his perfect smile...his music so perfect that it gets on your nerves.

The first time he notices you watching him play from outside the window, he frowns, and just for a moment, he doesn't seem so perfect anymore.

For some reason, that gives you a rush of satisfaction.

* * *

.

He's surprised that you've been watching him for a month already. He can't believe that he's never noticed you before. You tell him that he might have if he ever opened his eyes.

He opens them and smirks at you, and you suddenly realize why he keeps them closed.

* * *

.

He asks you one day if you play an instrument.

You tell him that you don't.

* * *

.

He's more like your brother than you had initially thought. It irritates you, and makes you want to run as far away from him as possible. You don't need another person like your brother, you really don't.

But at the same time, it fascinates you. And when he sits at the piano and starts to play, you know that you're as hopelessly ensnared by him as you were by your brother.

You don't think that's a good thing.

* * *

.

He's nearly always in the music room, and he lets you watch him practice whenever you want. He says it's nice to have your company, so he smiles and offers you a seat every time you come by.

He offers to teach you to play once. You smirk half-heartedly and decline.

* * *

.

You watch him play at a concert one day, and his music is so beautiful that it hurts. The audience is too stunned to applaud, and you sit with a hand over your chest, remembering exactly why you don't like playing anymore.

_You'll never be good enough._

When he comes over to you after the performance, he's excited, and you don't want to ruin it for him. So you hide the hurt and smile back.

When you tell him that he could've done better, he laughs and puts an arm around your shoulders. As you head home, you think about what a lie that was. Not even Fuji could be better than perfect.

* * *

.

You tear up your newest composition that night.

It shouldn't exist when there are so many things that are better.

* * *

.

He's surprised when you tell him you've taken music as a subject. He didn't think you knew much about it.

"_Mada mada dane," _you say. You don't touch the piano for weeks.

* * *

.

He walks you home one day, and your cousin invites him in. He doesn't expect to see the grand piano in the living room. Your cousin tells him that you play before you can stop her.

He opens his eyes and narrows them at you, and all of a sudden, you feel cornered.

When he asks you to play for him, you refuse, and lock yourself up in your room.

* * *

.

You later find out that your brother offered to play for him instead, and you feel unreasonably cold. Your finger shake and don't coordinate. Your homework is a mess.

* * *

.

He waits for you in the music room the next day, just like he always does. His eyes are open and staring at you calculatingly.

You stare back.

"You play the piano," he states quietly, eyes never leaving your face, "and you compose music."

You nod slightly, and he sighs. "Why didn't you just tell me, Echizen?"

You find the answer obvious. You didn't, because you didn't need _another _person to tell you how incompetent you are. One was more than enough.

* * *

.

You start avoiding Fuji after that. You're afraid he'll ask you to play for him.

You don't want to see his expression when you do.

* * *

.

He comes to your house a week later, asking to see you. You try to hide, but your cousin drags you out. He offers to take to lunch, and you agree, but you don't want to.

He takes you to a small cafe, and you both place your orders. He tells you all about school, his friends, his family, and his life outside music. All the things you didn't think you'd care about.

Surprisingly enough, you do.

* * *

.

You stop avoiding him after that. You continue to visit him in the music room, and he drops by occasionally at your house.

One day, you find him playing one of your compositions. You have no idea how he got it, and you don't really care, because it _hurts. _It hurts that he can make perfect what you haven't been to in _so many years_, without any effort at all. You grab your music sheets and flee the room, ignoring his shouts behind you.

When he turns up at your house that night, you lock yourself up in your room, and no amount of pleading from Nanako can get you out.

* * *

.

Your brother tells you that you're being childish.

You couldn't care less.

* * *

.

Fuji seems to give up. His visits are less frequent, and the music room is less often used. Not that you checked, of course.

You meet him on the streets one day, when he's hanging out with his friends. You try to leave unnoticed, but he excuses himself and catches up with you.

He takes you out to dinner, and he doesn't talk about music. At the end of the day, he apologizes.

You don't know why.

* * *

.

You meet up in the music room more often again. He lets you watch him practice, just like old ties.

He's much better than your brother will ever be, but you doubt that that's a good thing. You decide that it doesn't matter, because either way, they're both still better than you.

It's been two months since you last played the piano.

* * *

.

You start composing again one day. Your music isn't half as good as you want it to be, but today is one of the good days. So yes, you feel proud, and you even let Fuji play it for you.

It's a good thing he asked to keep the sheets, because the next day, you want to tear it up.

* * *

.

You walk in on Fuji and your brother talking one day. They both seem angry, and they're giving each other death glares. It's frightening, but you're more surprised that they hate each other.

You wonder if they're jealous of each other's skills. Because really, they have no need to be.

* * *

.

At Fuji's next concert you don't have to pretend. You genuinely feel happy. It's strange, but you do.

* * *

.

You watch your brother play that night. It brings up strange feelings, and you stare at him, wide eyed and in awe, just like you used to when you were a toddler.

He asks you to play a duet with him, and you stare at him like he's grown an extra head.

He insists, and you comply. You haven't played in months, and your fingers shake and don't coordinate. Your playing is even sloppier than it was before.

Your brother is patient. He doesn't tell you that you're not good enough.

You wonder what's changed.

* * *

.

You think it has something to with Fuji. The next time he comes over, he exchanges a knowing glance with your brother, and you're sure.

* * *

.

You play the piano everyday now. It's hard sometimes, like teaching yourself to walk after years of being bed-ridden.

But when you look at the smile on your brother's face, and the identical smile on Fuji's when he hears that you haven't stopped playing, you realize that it might be worth it.

* * *

.

You'd forgotten that music was supposed to be fun.

* * *

.

Months later, Fuji asks you to play for him. You ignore your instincts, and the warning bells ringing in your head, and take a seat at the piano.

He isn't upset with your performance. He isn't upset. If anything, he seems happy.

"You could be better than your brother, you know," he says, looking at you seriously.

You don't really believe it, but you find it sweet anyway.

* * *

.

The good days become less rare. You've learnt to give any music you're working on to Fuji before you destroy it. He returns it on the good days, and you work on it some more.

It's a good idea.

* * *

.

Your brother hopes that someday, you'll grow out of your childishness.

So does Fuji.

And so do you.

* * *

**.**

**That's it.  
**


End file.
